


Sweet Home

by 1010nabulation



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Instability, Rescue, ToT: Trick - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 03:23:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8234369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1010nabulation/pseuds/1010nabulation
Summary: Set sometime after Triptychs, Cecil and Carlos decide to save Kevin from the desolation in his future.  It turns out they are not a moment too soon...





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lipstickcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lipstickcat/gifts).



> The Weather during Kevin's show is [The Sky is Fallin'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nyGxLyzah_s), by Queens of the Stone Age.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I tagged this gen since the shippiness is not the main focus of the fic, but Cecil and Carlos are most definitely in a good relationship here. :)

“Listeners, today I have some exciting news to share!” Kevin says into his dead mic, voice lilting in a happy cadence over the last few words he speaks. “Late last evening I heard the distant sound of drums, just like the ones that some of the wandering armies use to keep time as they march aimlessly across the desert wasteland all around our fine town, and this morning—ohhh! This morning, listeners, I saw them! They were far off on the horizon, and heading _away_ from Desert Bluffs Too instead of toward it, but isn't that the most exciting thing that has happened out here in a long time? I certainly think so.”

No one is in the run-down studio to see Kevin's smile falter, no one but the ghost-mirages of friends long gone.

“Sure, it would have been _more_ exciting and monumental had they been coming through here, even in passing, but... isn't it better to view the glass as half full rather than half empty? And I'm just full to _bursting_ at even the sight of other sentient beings! It's been so long...” Kevin's voice cracks. “Isn't that right, Vanessa?”

He looks out at the empty studio, the dark black pits of his eyes fixed on a crack in the wall. There are cracks everywhere, wires spilling out of holes in the walls, spackled over with old blood... everything is falling apart. 

Kevin takes a shuddering breath and closes his eyes. Vanessa does not answer. Vanessa is not there. Even the ghosts are gone.

“Ah, my dear friend Vanessa, I'm afraid I'm going to have to scold you when you get back; it isn't time for a break yet! Who is going to help me run the studio if you're not here?” Kevin's smile strains wider as the ache in his chest grows.

“Well!” Kevin says brightly. Choosing to be happy is getting harder and harder. “Well... I guess I'll just have to bring you back myself, won't I? Listeners, you'll have to excuse me a moment. Please enjoy this weather report, and I'll be back in a jiffy!”

The weather today is sad and broken and lonely. But! Tomorrow will be better, Kevin is sure of it. He'll _make_ it better.

He thought... for a while... that he could do this on his own, after Carlos left. Desert Bluffs Too is his home, after all! But then Doug and Alicia and the rest of the Masked Warriors moved on as well. And Vanessa's double. And, all right, Kevin has been clear-headed enough lately to know that the ghost of Vanessa isn't really there either, not even when he can see her, not even when he so desperately needs to believe she can hear him when he speaks to her.

It's hard, trying to be happy when he has nothing left to be happy about. When everyone he ever cared about has left him. When even the town they helped him build is crumbling all around him. Everything was so much easier when he'd given himself over to the Smiling God... and the Smiling God has never left him.

Oh, he tried to leave _it_! Thought that if he abandoned it, renounced it, that he'd be better off. He could have a fresh start in Desert Bluffs Too! Kevin thought he'd missed having actual emotions, or... a conscience. But. Emotions hurt. The loneliness is so consuming, the sadness is so overwhelming, the loss and grief are so _painful_ , the regret eats at his soul, and... He. Just. Wants. To be. Happy. Again.

Maybe... maybe the Smiling God will take him back. Maybe being unraveled by its brightness wasn't so bad, and Kevin thinks he remembers the ceaseless consuming hunger it called out in him being more bearable than the gnawing lonely ache he feels now. Wouldn't everything be better if he could just smother it all beneath a happy, razor-glinting smile and a warm haze of blood again?

Wouldn't it?

Sanity is overrated. 

Kevin laughs. He feels worse and better already!

He lets the studio door bang shut behind him and heads out into the desert to give whatever is left of himself up to that terrible, wonderful light.

* * *

“Carlos, we have to go and rescue Kevin. You heard last night's show, didn't you, when Kevin's broadcasts kept coming through to mine? Desolate. That's how Kevin-from-the-future described how things were for him. And it isn't _all_ his fault that he was a raving corporate puppet bent on the destruction of everything I hold dear... you said yourself that he's better now, right?” Cecil has Carlos by the shoulders at the bathroom sink, eyes wild and determined. He hasn't slept at all since the show ended last night, unable to stop thinking and worrying about Kevin.

A toothbrush hangs half out of Carlos' mouth. “Waakth? Kethil--” He pulls the toothbrush out and spits minty foam out into the sink. “Cecil, babe, slow down. Rescue Kevin from what?”

“From... from, I don't know, from whatever is happening to him out there. From a future that's empty and sad...” Cecil's eyes light up. “From the desert otherworld!”

Carlos covers Cecil's hands on his shoulders with his own, and shakes his head. “That's his home. Desert Bluffs, or I guess Desert Bluffs Too, now. It means as much to him as Night Vale does to you, love. He's rebuilding it—Doug and Alicia and the other masked warriors, they're there with him. It's desolate out there, sure, but he's making something good out of it, and he's not alone. He doesn't need rescuing.”

“I know. I know, and yet I can't seem to shake this feeling that something's not _right_.” Cecil sighs, his whole body sagging. Carlos, beautiful Carlos, wraps his arms around Cecil and holds him tight and warm.

They stay like that a moment, Cecil's face buried in the soft, dark waves of hair spilling over Carlos' shoulder, Carlos gently smoothing his hands over Cecil's back.

Carlos' voice is soft when he speaks, barely above a whisper. “What if we go and visit him, so you can see for yourself how well he's doing?”

It'd soothe Carlos' own conscience too, to see how Kevin has been since he left. It's been months now (longer? time is weird here), since Carlos returned to Night Vale. He knows it was the right decision to make, even though it had to have hurt Kevin... but Kevin's happiness is in Kevin's own hands, and Carlos is sure that he has the strength to pull through and keep working toward his dream of building up Desert Bluffs Too. Getting confirmation of that, or giving Kevin a push in the right direction if he's having a rough time would be good. For all of them.

“Yes,” Cecil breathes, comforted. “Let's do that.”

* * *

The desert otherworld is not as devoid of life as it would seem to be. There are snakes and lizards, jackrabbits, ground owls, javelinas, coyotes... all thriving under the bright, beating sun. Kevin can feel the Smiling God calling for blood, a twisting ache in his guts, but can't yet bring himself to spill any. So he gathers what remains he can find—brittle, twiglike bones, picked clean and starkly white; teeth that clatter and clink satisfyingly in his pockets; feathers and fur like soft memories.

It's not enough, but it's a start. Each remnant of life he collects builds the hunger in him.

Soon, he'll be able to give his Smiling God what he wants, and then, ohhh then, Kevin will get what he needs... a frenzied sense of purpose, motivation to keep on living, and if he's lucky his grip on reality will slip enough that he'll be seeing Vanessa again. He won't have to be alone anymore.

A lizard darts out from under a rock. Kevin watches it, licks his lips. He drives his boot down on it hard before it can skitter away, its body crunching under his foot. A thrill runs down his spine as he lifts his leg and sees the spattered red remains of the crushed lizard, head smashed, legs bent at bizarre angles, spine and belly entirely obliterated. It's beautiful.

Kevin reaches down and scoops up what blood and viscera he can before the dry earth drinks it all up, and smears it over the tear tracks on his cheeks. He laughs.

That's it; that's better. His soul aches, but his blood is singing and he can feel his god smiling down on him. It's all the encouragement he needs to keep going.

“Oh, Vanessa, I'm going to make the studio so nice again. You'll see! You'll see...” Kevin hums to himself as he heads further into the desert, in search of larger prey. Something with more to it; more hot, wet blood; more crunching bones and teeth like white gems. More _homey_ \--the studio hasn't been redecorated since just after Carlos left! He's got a lot of work to do~.

* * *

“Oh. Oh, god, oh no.” Cecil moans before clapping his hands over his mouth, eyes wide. “We're too late, Carlos, _look_ \--”

Carlos swallows hard and fumbles for his hand, gripping it tightly. “Shhh, shhh, I don't think he's noticed us yet.”

And they don't want that, not right now.

They'd wanted to find Kevin. It'd taken miles of walking in the desert to find Desert Bluffs Too, all the while Carlos reassuring Cecil that it was right over the next dune... past that next arroyo... beyond that mesa, oh he recognizes these cacti!... until they finally found the town. Abandoned. Falling into disrepair, even the radio station building crumbling, as though many years had passed since Carlos had last seen it. Kevin had been nowhere around, yet there was evidence that he'd been there recently, so they'd decided to search for him before giving up entirely.

And now they've found him.

And everything is most definitely not okay.

A few yards away, Kevin is crouched in the sand, covered in blood. The carcass of a large javelina is before him, its body rent open, viscera spilling out. Kevin cackles and bends down, then sinks his teeth into the javelina's flesh, ripping a chunk of meat off. He gets his hands deep inside it and cracks its ribs, a loud crack crack pop crack! ringing out in the desert stillness along with Kevin's mad laughter.

Cecil shudders, looking away. “I thought you said he was all right,” he whispers weakly.

The muscles in Carlos' jaw jump. “I'm sorry. I thought...”

They watch a while longer as Kevin takes what he wants from the dead javelina, his mad joyful mirth ringing out across the empty desert. 

“How do we... how do we do this?” Cecil asks, voice wavering. “In the future... this isn't how he is. There must be some way to—to save him, or, or snap him out of it.”

Can't send him through another old oak door to be someone else's problem now. There has to be a way to bring him back around again. Carlos had said Kevin was _kind_ to him, and Cecil believes it after having heard how earnest and _good_ past Kevin had been pre-Strex.

“I'll talk to him,” Carlos says. His voice is steady and strong, but his eyes are uncertain. Maybe he can just reason with him; maybe that's all he needs to jolt him back into his right mind. A familiar face, someone he trusts, to talk him down. Maybe.

Cecil is reluctant to let go of Carlos' hand. This sounds like a terrible idea, doing something as mundane as _talking_ to Kevin while he's in such a frenzy. There is no way he's letting Carlos do this alone. “I'm coming with you.”

They step forward together, still holding hands.

“Kevin? Kevin, it's me, Carlos...”

“And Cecil.”

“Yes, and Cecil...”

Kevin's head whips up at the sound of familiar voices, a manic and bloody grin stretching widely across his face. “Oh, it's working!” His voice is a fluttering thing, high and thin. “Smiling God be blessed, I don't have to be alone anymore! I mean, I know you aren't real, I know, but—oh, I'm so happy you're here, Carlos! And Cecil too... perhaps my mind conjured you up for a second chance at friendship? Shall we let bygones be bygones and start over, fresh and bright as a new day?”

It hurts, knowing they couldn't actually be here, but Kevin is sure if he works hard enough at it that he can kill the imperfect parts of him that feel doubt and fear and guilt and shame. It'll be just like the good old days. He clutches the javelina's heart in his hand and beams at the two beloved spectres dancing in his vision. He has to squint to see them in the harsh sunlight. Everything is so dazzlingly _bright_.

Carlos and Cecil exchange worried glances. In Carlos' hand, Cecil's shakes. He grips it tighter.

“Kevin, we _are_ real. We—we wanted to see how you were doing.” Carlos' eyes are sad and scared. “It looks like... not good.”

Kevin's smile slips slightly before widening painfully further again. “Well, no. Things were pretty lonely out here for a while, so much so I was starting to worry I'd be speaking into the void forever.” He laughs, the sound of it frantic and tight. “But then I realized all I had to do was ask for help! And the Smiling God provided... you're here now, and everything is going to be just peachy!”

Cecil licks his lips, then clears his throat. This is so much worse than he had feared... so much worse, and so much harder to save Kevin from than mere desolation. How are they supposed to help Kevin when the monsters are all in his head—when he _wants_ them there—when he _invited them back in_? There are many reasons why Cecil is a radio host and not something like a doctor or re-education instructor, but seeing as they're literally dimensions away from any such professionals, he has to at least do what he can.

“You've got things a little mixed up, I think, Kevin. We aren't here because of intervention by any god, smiling or otherwise. We're here because Carlos is an amazing scientist and figured out a way to keep a doorway open between our world and this one long enough for us to come visit you.” Cecil is unsure how much reason is getting through to Kevin, but he thinks it's important to try.

Kevin shakes his head, then has to stop and put his wet hand to his temple. He's so dizzy, but still smiling. Oh, these two; of course even his ghost projections of them would try to insist on their own reality and even come up with their own motivations for being here with him. He's just on the edge of sanity, enough so that he realizes he's hallucinating, convincing as Cecil and Carlos seem.

Carlos offers Kevin a tentative smile of his own, takes a breath, and then also offers him his free hand. “How about we go and get you cleaned up, Kevin? I think we'd all feel better if you were less... gory. We can talk some more back at the station.”

“That would be delightful!” Kevin agrees. “Not that I don't absolutely _love_ being covered in blood, but it _would_ be quite nice to patch up this nasty gash in my side.” He pats the wound, wincing as he does so. Oops, still pretty painful! “It's always exhilarating when creatures struggle and really _fight_ for it, isn't it? And did you know that javelinas have quite a vicious bite? They do! Oh, they do...”

Kevin reaches to take Carlos' hand and starts to pull himself up off the blood-spattered ground, but he stumbles. His head is swimming, breath coming too short and shallow. “Oh dear,” he says, just before he collapses.

* * *

“We're taking him back to Night Vale.”

“But, Cecil, he's dangerous--”

“Please, Carlos, we can't just leave him here; he needs medical attention!” Cecil is struggling under the weight of his own double, heaving Kevin's limp form up into his arms as best as he can.

Carlos sighs exasperatedly and helps lift Kevin's legs so that they can both carry him. “I know, of course we won't just leave him. If we can find Doug and Alicia I'm sure they could help him.”

“No one was _in_ Desert Bluffs Too, you saw. It was abandoned!”

For a tense while, the only sound is their labored breathing and the crunch of dry dirt beneath their feet. The scent of blood is thick as the hot sun dries and bakes it onto Kevin's skin and into his clothes. Except for the wound in his side—that is still wet, still oozing.

Cecil is right. This is not the Kevin Carlos knew, but this terrifying man is most certainly the one that Cecil was familiar with... and if he thinks it'd be best to bring him back into Night Vale, then Carlos should help, no matter how uneasy it makes him feel. And he still cares about Kevin! He does, and he wants him to be well, _knows_ that the manic and bloodthirsty side of him is not all there is to Kevin. If they leave him here, even if it's with the masked warriors (if they can even locate them before he bleeds too much), he'd still be in this desolate, ruinous place. They can better help him in Night Vale.

“All right,” Carlos says softly, breaking the silence. “We'll take him with us.”

Cecil lets out a great whoosh of a sigh and nods.

They take him through the old oak door and don't look back.

* * *

When the nurse from the Night Vale clinic and re-education center calls and says Kevin is ready to go home, Cecil and Carlos head over right away.

Kevin seems smaller somehow, paler, less bright. The smile he gives Carlos and Cecil as they help him out of the clinic and into Cecil's car is hesitant, not at all the frightening, wide rictus grin he'd shown them in the desert otherworld. He doesn't speak as they drive back to the apartment, though Cecil tries to ask him how he's feeling and how the food was in the clinic and tries to reassure him that he and Carlos fought hard to keep him out of the re-education wing. _Nobody likes re-education._ Carlos finally has to put a hand on Cecil's shoulder to get his attention, suggesting that maybe Kevin has had quite an ordeal and needs a little quiet time right now.

With that in mind, as soon as they enter the apartment, they show Kevin the guest room they've prepared for him.

“And this is the closet—there's a few changes of clothes in there that used to be Cecil's, since you're the same size and all, but we can take you to get something in your own style soon. The bed is ready for you... so make yourself comfortable, Kevin. This is your home for as long as you like.” Carlos smiles, his hand at Kevin's elbow to keep him steady. Cecil stands just outside the door, watching.

Kevin trembles and bites his lip. Before he can stop himself, tears spill from the dark sockets of his eyes. He grips Carlos' hand and looks questioningly at him and over at Cecil. “How--? Why? Is this _real_?”

Cecil sucks in a breath and shoots Carlos a look. They'd talked about this. If it came to it, if Kevin was still possessed by the Smiling God when he came around, they'd have to take action. He doesn't want to, but...

“Shh, hey, it's real. All this is real. I'm real, and Cecil is real. You were having a rough time out there in the desert otherworld, so we brought you here to Night Vale to recover, do you remember that?” Carlos takes Kevin's free hand in his own, squeezing it gently. He meets Cecil's eyes and gives a tiny shake of his head. Not yet.

“I—yes. I remember. That isn't what I meant; I know—I know you and Cecil are real, I just meant--” Kevin shuts his eyes and swallows hard. This isn't coming out right. Now that he's firmly back on solid ground, he realizes what a terrible mistake he made out there in the desert, how futile it was... how desperate and stupid he was to think that Carlos and Cecil appearing there had anything to do with his prayers being answered. The Smiling God is not that kind. It blinds and consumes you, and he'd been at the point where he was ready to welcome that... but now? How did he get so lucky?

“It's just hard to believe,” Kevin tries again, “that you really want me to stay here with you. I don't deserve...”

“What you don't deserve is to be alone out there,” Cecil cuts in. “Listen, I know the real you, Kevin, and so does Carlos. Strex and that damnable Smiling God broke you, but you don't have to bear that alone anymore.”

“We're here for you.” Carlos pulls Kevin into his arms, and Cecil joins them. “We'll help you.”

Kevin quakes between them, clinging gratefully to Carlos' clean white jacket, feeling the warmth of Cecil's arms around them both. It's the first true warmth he's felt in... years. “Thank you,” he breathes. “Thank you.”

He's _home._


End file.
